Tapestry of Fate
by Firenzie
Summary: This story is basically my version of a Harry Potter book 5... Unfortunately, I never got far enough into finishing this to even have the title come into play. It's just the intro chapters.
1. In The Middle of the Night

**Harry Potter **

**And The**

**Tapestry of Fate**

CHAPTER 1

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

No, please, don't! Take me instead; let her live! No – stop, don't do it! Stop it, please, take me – I beg you – don't – stop, no – don't do it – _NOOOOOOO!!!_" Shrieks and sobs came hysterically. "How could you?! Why didn't you take me?!"

"Foolish Mudblood," a deep voice said. "I won't fall for that again…don't give me that innocent look; yes, I know you know…I've seen you with him, don't deny it; I've read the papers. You're the Heartbreaker, correct? Ha ha, yes, of course. Maybe I can use you after all. It would be so easy to get him; imagine, his best friend –"

"NEVER!" the girl cried fiercely.

"Stupid little girl. You have no choice. If you don't want to help me, I can easily kill you. All filthy Mudbloods like you should be wiped off the face of this earth! I should kill you too, just like I did to your little friend." He hissed to someone or something else.

A slow hiss came in reply, and the man chuckled. "All right then, Nagini, I shall do it. You can have her for breakfast tomorrow." There was a short pause –

"DON'T!!!" 

"_Avada Kedavr _–"

"_AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!_" 

A shrill yell pierced the peaceful, quiet summer night. Harry Potter sat up abruptly in his bed, and his hand flew to his forehead. It was burning with an immense pain, which was worse than he had ever experienced.

On his forehead was a scar, strangely shaped, like a thin bolt of lightening. But that wasn't what was so odd. It was a tragic story on how Harry had received the ugly scar, a reminder of that horrible night in 1981. The night the most fearful wizard in the world came to a certain house in Godric's Hollow, and attacked a well-known wizarding family – the Potters.

Harry had been just a small baby, age 1, and his parents were still young. There had been his father, James: tall, good-looking, with messy hair, glasses, Quidditch captain in his time at Hogwarts, Head Boy, and top trouble maker. His mother, Lily, was a beautiful woman with long, red hair, who had been Head Girl.

It had been a very typical day. Yet when nighttime came around, the Dark Lord arrived and attacked. He killed James first, who hadn't the power to defeat him. And Lily gave her life for her son, a powerful charm to protect him. So when Voldemort used the most treacherous Unforgivable Curse on Harry, it rebounded, leaving Harry the scar, and Voldemort lost his powers and fled.

He had been hiding for years, but finally, in Harry's first year, he went for the Sorcerer's Stone, a blood-red stone, which made gold, and most importantly, caused eternal life. Again, he failed to obtain it, thanks to Harry, his best friends, and Albus Dumbledore, the Hogwarts Headmaster.

Harry met up with Voldemort again, in his second year at Hogwarts, in the Chamber of Secrets, with Voldemort's old, teenager self, Tom Riddle and a deadly Basilisk. Luckily, Harry saved the day again, with the help of Dumbledore's phoenix Fawkes, the Hogwart's Sorting Hat, and Godric Gryffindor's sword.

But last year, he wasn't so lucky. He and Cedric had won the Triwizard Tournament, and as their fingertips reached for the cup, they had no idea it was a Portkey that would transport them straight to Voldemort. Cedric Diggory was killed, and Peter Pettigrew, a traitor who was one of Voldemort's followers, made a powerful potion to make Voldemort live again.

It was the worst thing to ever happen – and only a few people knew the truth.

Harry shuddered. The pain emanating from his scar was unbelievably excruciating. He discovered he was drenched in a cold sweat, he was shaking all over, and his breath was coming in short, uneven gasps. It had been horrible, even worse than the time he had a dream like that last summer. This time, he heard the screams like they were around him, he knew the people, and – and he felt their pain and agony as they died.

He looked at his luminous clock and winced. It was one thirty in the morning, and his scream must have been loud enough to wake up all of England. He saw the dim orange glow from the streetlights streaming in through his curtains on his window, since it was still very dark outside.

The Dursleys had obviously woken up, since he heard loud stomps, obviously coming from his uncle, walking down the hallway, closer to his room. He panicked a bit, and he was considering hiding under the covers and pretend he was still asleep.

Wait – why would he do that? He was a Gryffindor; he was supposed to be brave and courageous. "I've got to face my fears," he whispered to himself. He knew he would have to, since he heard an outraged cry very nearby.

"What's going on?!" The door to his small bedroom in Number 4, Privet Drive, where he lived with his only remaining relatives, was flung open so hard that in nearly flew off it's hinges. 

A purple-faced, beefy man, looking rather like an enraged bull, was standing in the doorway. It was Harry's uncle, by marriage, Vernon Dursley, and his anger seemed to instantly fill up the room. His bushy mustache was quivering, and his eyes were ablaze with fury. "You could have woken up the whole neighborhood with that scream!" he bellowed.

Normally, Harry would have been thinking of a quip or something along the lines of, _"And your shouts would help them back to sleep?"_ but this time, he couldn't even answer, due to the fact that his forehead was still as painful as ever. His shaking, sweaty hand reached for his glasses on his nightstand, and he turned on his lamp, all the time keeping his other hand clapped to his forehead.

"What happened?" Petunia Dursley demanded, stalking into the room, pulling on a dressing gown. Her pointy face was reddening.

"HIM!" Vernon roared, raising an accusing finger. "Screamed loud enough to wake the bloody neighbors!"

"I think the Robertson couple has been up all night already," Petunia replied, craning her unusually long neck out of Harry's window.

"Boy – what's the matter with you?!" Vernon was glaring at Harry with the utmost loathing.

"What's going on?" Dudley asked, waddling inside, rubbing his eyes with a porky fist.

"Nothing," Harry lied quickly, taking his hands off his forehead. "Just a bad dream, that's all, go to bed…" The light from his lamp shined on something glistening on his palm. It was sticky and red. He moved his hand to his head, and felt drops of blood trickling down the side.

Petunia gasped and backed into the wall. Vernon protectively covered her, but Dudley was too big to fit behind him also; he had cheated so much on his diet last year that Petunia gave up, insisting to his school, Smeltings, that she'd make his uniform herself since there was no size big enough.

"What?" Harry asked wondrously. "Never seen some blood before?" He peered around the room to see if they were staring at something else, but they gave no reply and went on gaping at his forehead. "Huh?"

Vernon pointed at Harry's scar with horror, and the Dursleys stood stock-still as Harry slowly pulled himself out of bed. He almost tripped on his pajama pants, which used to be Dudley's, but they were still several sizes too large, as he walked to his wardrobe. Slowly, he opened the door and looked in the mirror.

He saw basically what he expected: a teenage boy about fourteen, nearly fifteen, with messy, jet-black hair sticking up everywhere, glittering emerald eyes, and black-framed glasses. In his reflection, he was covered in sweat, with some blood still dripping down, and his face wore an expression of curiosity and puzzlement. 

Then in an instant, it changed to pure shock – his scar was glowing bright green.

As unusual as his curse scar was, it had never glowed before, nor had it hurt so much. He blinked once, and then it happened. For a second – one split second – his thin, lightening-shaped scar changed. It became the Dark Mark, the feared symbol Voldemort and his followers, the Death Eaters. It was a horrible skull with a snake coming out of its mouth like a tongue. 

Harry blinked disbelievingly; his scar was normal again, with only a faint trace of pain, and a dimmer glow. As he was about to turn away seconds later, the familiar pain shot across his forehead again – he blinked – and he saw a horrible face…with glowing eyes…deathly white skin – it was _Voldemort_.

He was laughing evilly. It remained for a long time, just glowering at him, with a wicked smile curled on his lips. The high-pitched cackle could be heard, and it eerily echoed off the walls. Harry panicked and in the corner of his eye he saw the horrified Dursleys slowly backing away.

Then as quickly as the laughter came, it vanished, along with the evil face. His scar was fine now, no Dark Marks, evil lord's faces; it wasn't glowing, there wasn't any blood or pain.

Harry was so scared and confused – he felt so dizzy – the room was spinning – his scar was hurting again – hazily, he saw the Dursleys run off in terror – his knees were shaky and he wobbled around – his mind was so jumbled up – and then he fainted.

This chapter was meant to be longer, but I got sick of the introduction explaining that Harry Potter was no normal boy, but a wizard, blah, blah. I also forgot to mention it has some GoF spoilers, but don't kill me. Anyway, who _hasn't_ read all four books?

This is just something I'm experimenting with, so you have to tell me if you like it. It's supposed to be long, with a lot of chapters, like a short book 5 (my version) on another parallel world (Note to self: stop watching _Sliders_ so much), and since I usually get too lazy to complete long stories, I'm going to need your help. I mean, why would I write something that everyone hated? I know it's kind of dumb to do a year 5 when book 4 just came out, but I'm weird, okay?

So please, tell me what you think. If you have any additional comments, email me at: [SmileyLizL@aol.com][1].

**Disclaimer:** I'm not getting any money off this (but I do accept donations! j/k), and these aren't my characters or places or anything, so you can't sue me! *Does the "Can't Sue Me Dance." (Note to self: cut down on Conan O'Brien and get some sleep. Stop watching so much TV).

Thanks for reading!

   [1]: mailto:SmileyLizL@aol.com



	2. St. Mungo's

**Harry Potter**

**And The**

**Tapestry of Fate**

CHAPTER 2

St. Mungo's

Is he dead?"

"Don't ever say that!"

"Well, he looks dead! He doesn't even look like he's breathing at all –"

"Yeah, c'mon, it's been _weeks_…"

"Shut up, you two, will you?"

"Yeah, never lose hope –"

"Everyone, be quiet, I think he's coming to!" All the people hushed.

The room was deathly silent as Harry's heavy eyelids fluttered open. He cast a weary eye at his surroundings; a group of people were huddled around him, where he was on a soft bed, and all the people had fiery red hair. 

His seeing was blurred, but he could recognize that hair anywhere, from miles away. "Leasweys?" he croaked. All his energy was totally drained, and his voice was slurred. His head still hurt, and he was very dizzy.

"He's awake!" Ginny Weasley squealed excitedly.

"That's too bad, she had fun watching you sleep," Ron muttered to Harry.

She hit him very hard in the arm. "Here, you'll need these," Ginny said, blushing bright red, handing him his glasses.

He put them on, and everything came into clearer focus. "Thanks. Hello everyone."

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley said in delight, squeezing his hand. 

Mr. Weasley put a hand on his shoulder. "Good to see you awake."

"Where am I?" he wondered.

"You're at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries," a very familiar lady replied. "I'm your doctor, Dr. Polly Pomfrey. Yes, I am related to Poppy, I'm her twin; she says that you come into the Infirmary all the time… 

"So you've finally woken up. Quite a coma you were in there." The lady waved her hand, and a thermometer flew into Harry's mouth. "Ahhh…normal temperature. Well, you look fine for now, let me just go check some things and then we'll see if you're fit to leave. Just drink this and hold on, I need to check something…" She handed him a cup of bluish liquid and walked out of the room.

"Coma?" Harry said in astonishment, holding the cup out.

He looked around, and he was in a comfortable bed with crisp, white sheets. The room smelled clean, with a trace of anesthetics and medicines, and the walls were covered in white wallpaper. One side had a large moving mural of a medieval castle, a dragon in a moat, a princess screaming in its claws, a knight on a white horse, and an old wizard waving his wand. His bedside table was piled with flowers and chocolates from people he didn't even know; a very familiar situation.

"You've been out for weeks," Fred explained. George and he had a somewhat grumpy look on their faces.

"What's wrong?" he wondered, after he gulped down the potion. Luckily, it tasted pretty good, like blueberries.

Fred and George crossed their arms and looked away, Mrs. Weasley looked stern, but instructed him to drink the potion, and Ron mouthed, "Later," behind Mr. Weasley's back.

"What happened to me? Why am I here" Harry asked, immediately changing the subject.

"Why don't you tell us?" Mr. Weasley asked. "After Dumbledore approved of us taking you in for the rest of the holidays, we paid the Dursleys a little visit, not through Floo Powder, mind you. We found you lying on a bed unmoving; the Dursleys hadn't bothered to call a doctor, they feared they would see your abnormality, as they put it. According to them, you had looked in a mirror, because your scar was changing and glowing, then there was an evil laugh, and you seemed fine. Then after a while, you started to wobble and you fainted."

"Yeah, but how did I get to St. Mango's Hospitable for Magical My Ladies and In-Juries?"

"Cuckoo, cuckoo," Ron said, making a circular motion around his head, with his index finger sticking out.

"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries," Mrs. Weasley said gently. "Ron – don't do that, he's in a bad state right now." Ron dropped his hand.

"So – what happened?" Mr. Weasley said eagerly.

"I – I –" Harry's head was spinning again.

"Yes?" Ron asked.

"I – I…I don't remember." He hung his head.

"Look, Harry needs some rest," Mrs. Weasley said. "Let's go into the cafeteria and get some lunch, shall we?" Everyone nodded unwillingly, and walked out the door.

"Hang on," Harry heard Ron say loudly from the outside corridor. "I think I left something in the room!"

"Honestly Ron, you're talking like your on a fellytone," George snickered.

"The jokes on you, George, it's a tellyphone," Ron said, snickering.

Fred laughed. "Actually, it's a _tele_phone," he whispered, when Ron walked inside.

"Don't wait up for me!" he called over his shoulder.

"We weren't going to," George replied, as the Weasleys walked down the hall.

Ron came in and instantly rushed back to Harry's bed. "So, Harry, what's up?"

"I have no idea." He rubbed his scar instinctively. "I can't believe I forgot."

"Maybe Mum's right, you need some rest." They paused, looking at each other. 

"Nah!" Ron laughed. "Anyway, Fred and George are so hot and bothered because Mum found their gold. You know, the one thousand Galleons you gave them? They had it stashed in their room, and Mum was cleaning the house. She kept it for herself and forbid them to ever start a joke shop in their life. At least we – oh, wait, I'm not supposed to tell."

"What?" Harry asked fervently.

"I can't." Ron put his hand over his mouth. "Mph mmmph mmmpphhhhing mmph-mmmmph-mmmphing."

"Huh?" Harry scratched his head.

"Mmumphing. See you later! I can't wait until you see our –" he shouted, clapped a hand to his mouth, and ran off.

Maybe Mrs. Weasley was right…he needed the rest to clear up his head. Perhaps he could remember why he passed out. He fluffed up his pillow, and after gazing at the moving mural on the wall for a while, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

_ _

_CRASH!!!_

_ _

"What's that?" a panicky voice asked.

"I don't know. I think the window shattered. Or it was broken into… Shhh…hang on, be quiet," a worried, but calmer voice said. There was a faint, low hiss coming from somewhere. "Am I hearing things, or was that a snake?"

"Maybe both of us are?" the younger voice asked hopefully.

"Ha ha ha!" A deep, evil laugh bounced of the walls.

"Oh my god, who is it?" the younger voice asked shrilly. "Are we going to die?"

"No, be quiet, come on, let's get help –"

"Too late!" a low voice boomed loudly.

A high-pitched scream penetrated the night silence.

"Come on, let's get out of here!" the other girl cried.

The younger girl screamed even louder. "I can't! Help me! He's got me!"

"Who?"

"Who else?! Help me! Go get someone! Get help!"

"I've got her," the deep voice said. "And guess what – I'm going to kill her."

"You can't!"

"Well, too bad – because I am." A voice chuckled.

The older girl began pleading now. "No, please, don't! Take me instead; let her live! No – stop, don't do it! Stop it, please, take me – I beg you – don't – stop, no – don't do it – "

"_Avada Kedavra!_" A loud thump was heard, the body must have fell to the ground.

"_NOOOOOOO!!!_" The girl sobbed and shouted at the man hysterically. He made no comment, as she screamed, "Why didn't you take me? She didn't deserve to die! Why did you do it? How could you?" There was a pounding noise; she was slamming her fists on the floor. 

That laugh, that familiar cackle…it got louder and louder and more booming…louder and louder…

Harry's ears were ringing, and his head hurt. He was breathing heavily, and he was sweating all over again. However, this time, he didn't scream. Good, because the Weasleys, back from lunch, were looking at him strangely. "Nightmare," he explained in a hoarse voice. His heart was still pounding way too fast, like he had just run a mile.

"What happened?" Ron asked. "What was it about? Do you remember?"

"I…– no." Why couldn't he remember? He knew it was horrifying, so why couldn't it stay in his memory for at least two seconds? "I have no idea," he said, sighing with disappointment. "So who was laughing?"

"Laughing?" Fred and George looked at each other quickly. "We weren't laughing," they said simultaneously.

Harry noticed that Percy had just arrived, and he had no idea that the twins had put some of Ginny's purple hairclips in his neat, recently cut, red hair. "Harry, so you're awake." He sounded solemn, and refused to take a few steps closer to Harry, like he was contagious.

Harry tried not to grin, but it was hard, so he looked past Percy, at the doorway. The door opened, and everyone's head swung to look at who entered. 

Dr. Pomfrey was back, carrying a clipboard. "Well, Harry, good news, you're fine. The potion has taken effect, I'm sure? We have no idea what caused you to faint, but I remember reading an article in the Daily Prophet saying you fainted often, and Poppy said that too. Maybe it's some unknown disease, but it's not deadly, so you can go. Mr. Weasley, if you'd just sign the release form at the front desk…"

Mr. Weasley left with the doctor. Harry slowly got up out of the bed, but then he realized that his light blue robe had no back. He scrambled back into bed, as Ron, Fred, and George sniggered, and Ginny giggled.

A few minutes later, Dr. Pomfrey returned. She tossed Harry his normal clothes, and announced that Mr. Weasley was waiting for them outside. Everyone left the room when Harry changed back into his regular clothes, which was a relief, and then he gathered up his 'Get-Well, Harry!' cards and gifts, and then he walked out of the hospital room with great difficulty. With the presents in front of his eyes, he nearly bumped into an empty stretcher and ran into a nurse. 

Harry was relieved and glad when he neared the double exit doors. He pushed it open very carefully, making sure not to drop anything. As he walked out of the hospital, he tripped on the sidewalk, accidentally dropping a few bouquets of flowers, and then an unexpected sight greeted his eyes.

***

**A/N: **Okay, why do I keep ending in cliffhangers? I guess it's to get you reading the sequels, but I know most of you won't, just like you won't review (grrr…).I know this title was stupid, but I suck at coming up with names. 

Please, tell me what you think of this, okay? Oh, and it would help if you gave me some of your predictions or what you want to happen in the sequels, because I'm a bit lost and confused on what to write. This would help me greatly. And just for the record – who would like a Harry/Hermione (I'm not saying it's going to happen, I'm just curious!)?

**Disclaimer: **Chocolate chip cookies are yummy…Oh shut up, like anyone actually cares about the disclaimers! Fine then, to the one loser in the very back who does, these characters and places aren't mine, but you can't steal my ideas either! And Polly Pomfrey is mine (and if someone made her up before, then I haven't read it). Happy now?


	3. Surprises

**Harry Potter**

**And The**

**Tapestry of Fate**

CHAPTER 3

Surprises

Harry gaped. A sleek, shiny, red convertible was waiting for him on the curb, and he saw five red heads in it. A few more gifts fell from Harry's arms.

Percy was sitting in the driver's seat, looking very stern, especially towards Fred and George. They were blasting rock music from the stereo, though they were sitting in the back, and looking furious. Ron was there too, looking happy and bitter at the same time. Ginny just looked annoyed, with her arms crossed.

Harry hopped inside the back, next to Ron. It was rather crowded, since no one wanted to sit next to Percy. In the end, Ginny hopped up front. 

"So where did this come from?" Harry asked. It was common knowledge that the Weasleys were extremely poor.

"You know how Mum found the money?" Ron whispered. "They used it to buy Percy a new car because of his promotion to the Head of the Department of International whatever."

"The Department of International Magical Cooperation!" he corrected sternly. "As you know, Mr. Crouch retired."

"No, he died, you don't have to lie. We all know his son killed him." Ron said, as Percy revved up the engine to drown out his words. He was clearly ignoring Ron, because he knew his idol had been murdered. He began to drive, very slowly and carefully. 

"Go faster!" Ginny insisted.

"I have to stay under the speed limit, I don't want to get a ticket," Percy told her smartly. A few Muggle kids on bicycles passed them by. Soon, he was going so under the speed limit in a pleasant neighborhood that an elderly man walking on the sidewalk with a seeing eye dog went past them.

"This is ridiculous," George said furiously. "Take our money, buy our least favorite brother a great, new car, he drives 5 miles an hour, and we don't even get to drive it."

"You don't have a license anyway!" Percy said angrily. "Now be quiet and turn off that blasted music, I'm trying to drive here!"

Fred turned the volume up instead, and the bass was so high that the ground shook. The rest of the ride went along that way, and Harry was very glad to get to their destination. 

But was it really? Percy pulled up in front of a large teetering house, it was definitely the Burrow, but it was different somehow. There had been some add-ons to it, a few new rooms, and it didn't look all shabby like it normally was.

Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George hopped out of the car and ran up to the house. Harry went to join them, but Percy stopped him. "Harry, can I have a word?"

"Sure." He felt uncertain, but he agreed. Why would Percy want to talk to him?

"Can I ask you a question? Ron wanted to know, so he's supposed to ask you this, but he chickened out, and came to me, for some reason –"

Ron had never hidden anything from him before. "What is it?"

"Ummm…Oh, he wants to know if you like Hermione," Percy said uncomfortably. "Yeah, I know, it's stupid, but Ron –"

"Do I like Hermione? You mean as a friend? Or do I _like_ like Hermione?" Percy nodded, looking even more embarrassed than ever. "Well, obviously not! I thought Ron had known that, of all people. He isn't starting to believe Rita Skeeter's articles, is he?" asked Harry incredulously.

"I think Ron's just – you know, checking to see if he has to compete with you for her affections." Percy was very red by now. "Since he has to fight to keep anything himself. He thinks that you always get everything, and if you got Hermione too – Let's go inside, shall we?" he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

Harry nodded, very confused. He noted that Percy was checking his watch. "All right." They walked inside the improved house. Percy opened the door, and went inside. He followed him in, but it was pitch-black. Percy had disappeared, and he couldn't see a foot in front of his face. "What's going on?" The door slammed behind him, a light flicked on.

"SURPRISE!!!" a large group of people shouted happily. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!"

Harry looked around in shock. His first surprise party, his first birthday party! There were banners and decorations all over the living room of the Weasley's house. In the group, he saw a whole bunch of familiar faces: the Weasleys, all his fellow Gryffindor 5th year friends, the Quidditch team, and a whole bunch of other Hogwarts people he knew.

"I forgot it was my birthday," he admitted, flushed with happiness.

"We were hoping for that," Percy said, actually grinning, coming from behind him.

Suddenly, someone came running for him. All Harry saw was a bushy, brown head before a pair of arms flung around his neck, and he nearly suffocated. 

"Harry!" his best friend, Hermione Granger, said happily. "You're safe!" She held tightly onto him, and buried her face in his shoulder. 

Harry knew she had burst into tears. "Come on, why are you crying now? It's my birthday!"

"I know," she said, sniffling. "I'm crying out of happiness. Harry – do you have any idea how worried I was when I heard what had happened to you? Ron owled me, and I was so upset that I couldn't visit you. I thought something horrible had happened –"

"Why couldn't you visit?" Harry asked curiously.

"She was visiting Vicky-Poo in Bulgaria," Ron said, sounding irritated. He looked slightly jealous, and he glared at Hermione, whose arms were still tightly around Harry.

"I was not! And don't call him that!" she said furiously. "If you must know, I was visiting my grandmother…at her funeral." She burst into tears again, and it was definitely not of happiness.

Ron looked down. "I'm sorry."

Hermione clung to Harry for a while longer, wetting his shirt, and then she left go and sniffled. "Anyway, we should be happy, right? Harry, I want you to meet my cousin, Gretchen." She beckoned to someone, and a little girl appeared.

She looked very different from the way Hermione had looked when she was eleven. Her light brown hair was long and straight, and her eyes were shockingly azure. The one trait she had of Hermione's was that she had oversized front teeth, though Hermione didn't have hers any more. She stood uncomfortably, looking very shy.

"Gretchen, this is Harry Potter. Remember?"

"Of course," the girl said nervously, in an unusually high-pitched voice, twisting her fingers. "You told me tons about him, how could I forget?"

"I was wrong when I said no one in my family was magic at all, because Gretchen was just accepted into Hogwarts!" Hermione beamed at her young cousin, who looked away.

"Now that you're done with your hellos, can we go and join the party now?" Ron asked, a bit rudely. He stalked off to the backyard. Gretchen trotted away too.

"What on earth is his problem?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"I have no idea," Harry said, as they walked outside.

"HARRY!" a loud voice boomed. It was the caretaker and teacher of Care for Magical Creatures at Hogwarts, the half-giant Hagrid. He came up to Harry, beaming. He seemed to already have had a couple drinks, and he swayed a bit as he walked. He cuffed Harry very hard on the shoulder, and he fell over.

"Hello – hello Hagrid," he said, pushing his glasses back onto his nose. Ron helped him get up off the ground.

Hagrid looked at him curiously. "So why did yeh pass out and have to go to St. Mungo's?"

"I don't really remember. Mr. Weasley said something about my scar changing? And then I know I woke up at one in the morning because of a dream I had." Harry expected Hermione to make some comment about how she read about those before, or it sounded familiar and she'd check it out in a book. She remained silent, as though calculating something in her head. "Hey, what's up?" he asked her. "Got any ideas?"

She still gave no reply, staring off into space with her eyes glazed over.

"Ummm…Hermione?" Harry asked, waving a hand in front of her face. Behind her back, Ron was pretending to stab her, faking strangling her, and putting bunny ears behind her head. Hagrid looked at her curiously, but she didn't react or even flinch at all.

Harry took her by the shoulders and started shaking her, but her expression didn't change at all. Still dazed, she just was limp; moving the way Harry shook her. Suddenly, she gave a tiny scream and started shaking like she was having a seizure. Finally, she passed out cold in his arms.

***

Harry looked around the room. Ron was pacing nervously back and forth, Gretchen was sitting next to Hermione expressionless, and the other Weasleys and people were staring at Hermione. She had been passed out for a while, with no signs of getting up.

"Forget this," a few of the Hogwarts students said and walked back to the backyard.

Harry stared at Hermione. "Is this how I looked when I was in a coma?"

"Kind of," Mr. Weasley said. "Actually, you looked exactly like that."

"So she's in a coma too?" Ron asked softly. He had never seemed so emotional, when not out of anger, except for the time in their second year when he thought Ginny was dead.

"Who's next?" George asked. "Ronnie-kins, you better watch out."

"Shut up, this isn't funny," he said crossing his arms and gazing at Hermione. She looked peacefully asleep actually.

Half an hour later, everyone was gone but Harry and Ron. And Gretchen, who was asleep on the sofa by Hermione.

"Come on," Harry said, "she'll wake up soon. We can go back to my party for now."

"Don't say that!" Ron said. "I'm going to stay by her side until she wakes up."

"All right," Harry said. He took one last look at Hermione. "Wake up soon," he said, kneeling by her and brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

And then she blinked. "Harry?" she murmured slowly, as he got up.

"Hermione!" Ron said happily. "You're all right!"

"Of course I am," she said. "What happened anyway?"

"Not this again," Ron said angrily. "What is with you two?"

"I think we saw something," Harry explained. "And somehow it made us pass out. It's really weird."

Hermione nodded and slowly got up from her spot. "Ron, do you think you could leave for a while? I need to talk to Harry about something."

His eyebrows furrowed, but he agreed and left.

"What is his problem?" Hermione said. "Geez, you'd think he was jealous of something."

Percy's words came into Harry's head at once_. I think Ron's just – you know, checking to see if he has to compete with you for her affections._ _Since he has to fight to keep anything himself. He thinks that you always get everything, and if you got Hermione too – _No, that couldn't be it. "So what do you need to talk to me about?" he wondered.

"I was lying to Ron. I _do_ remember what happened in my vision or whatever you want to call it. Harry, in my vision…" She gulped. "You died."

***

See, what did I say about the cliffhangers? It's become an insane obsession, taking over my writing style! Someone, anyone with this problem, please help me! Please, this is serious! E-mail or IM me at [SmileyLizL@aol.com][1] or review or something, just help me!

Yeah, I had to replace the one I posted. Katie Bell reminded my stupid self that Crouch died. I forgot all about GoF, schoolwork is really getting to me.

Anyway, it wasn't supposed to be like this AT ALL. I even had an outline all planned out, and look what happened! Anyway, this title doesn't need work, because it's based on something that'll happen later on in this story. Right now, all this stuff is fluff. Sorry it took so long to post, I was seriously reevaluating if I should continue it or not. Even though no one is reading it, I'll finish it anyway because I'm so bored.

**Disclaimers: **Harry and the gang are property of J.K. Rowling, not me. I made up Gretchen Granger (wow, what a horrible name).

   [1]: mailto:SmileyLizL@aol.com



	4. Wiles, WELHPS, and Wishes

**Harry Potter**

**And The**

**Tapestry of Fate**

CHAPTER 4

# Wiles, WELHPS, and Wishes

Hermione stared at Harry, her expression worried, but anxious. "So?"

Harry laughed. "I thought you didn't believe in Divination. You could have fooled me, you sounded just like Trelawny."

"That phony fraud?" She was clearly disappointed with Harry's answer. "Harry, this was serious. I mean, you died –"

"I've almost died hundreds of times." He looked at the odd look on her face. "Don't be so scared. It's nothing. Just a nightmare, okay? There's no such things as visions and premonitions, remember?"

"You're one to talk!" she said. "Look Harry, how can you doubt me? I thought you, of all people, would understand! I mean, you've had dreams about – about Voldemo – You-Know-Who –"

"Voldemort," he corrected. "Come on, you're a Muggleborn, just say it. Isn't it easier?"

"Fine then. _Voldemort._" She didn't shiver, because it actually reduced the tingle fear she got when people said 'You Know Who.'_ "_Anyway, you've had tons of dreams about him, and when he killed someone, they were actually murdered."

"I'm still alive, trust me." He grinned. "I think I'd know if I were dead, Hermione."

"Fine then!" she said. "Don't believe me." She stalked off to the backyard.

"Hermione!" he called after her.

Someone blocked his way. Two someones actually. "Hiya, Harry!" It was Colin and Dennis Creevy, possibly the two most annoying kids on the planet.

"Hi," he said dully.

"Happy birthday!" they chorused energetically.

"Thanks. Have you seen where Hermione went?" he asked, craning his neck.

"Thataway," Colin said, pointing off towards the food table. "Go and get her!" He winked.

Harry rolled his eyes and began to walk off, but Dennis blocked him. He sighed. "Yes?"

"Can I get a picture, Harry?" he asked, bobbing up and down. "Please! Colin let me borrow his camera, and –"

"Maybe later…" He needed to find Hermione. He had no idea why she was so upset about this, as she hated Divination so much. She was the one who dropped out in her third year and criticized Professor Trelawny constantly.

He bumped into Ron. He had finally calmed down. "So what did Hermione want to tell you?" He raised his eyebrows suspiciously.

"She was all upset because she had a dream about me dying. She thought it was a vision, and when I said it was only a nightmare, she ran off."

"I thought she didn't believe in Divination," Ron replied.

"Me neither. Anyway, who invited the Creevy brothers?"

"I did," Ginny said. "Colin and I have to talk about a club we're forming." She ran off, blushing a bit.

Ron snorted. "They're starting WELHPS."

"Whelps?" Harry asked in confusion.

"The We Especially Love Harry Potter Society." He burst out laughing.

Harry groaned. "Good thing Rita Skeeter isn't around to see this. Or Lockhart either."

"But you're wrong," Hermione said, coming up behind him. She was grinning widely now, her hands behind her back.

"What do you mean?" Parvati Patil and her twin Padma asked at the same time, skipping over. "Hi, Harry!"

Hermione beamed and produced a jam jar, with twigs, leaves, and a shiny, black bug. "I know I promised I would let her free once in London, but I think she needs some time more, and you guys had to be there to see it."

"Ewww, what's that?!" Lavender Brown squealed, peering through the glass.

"Mrs. Rita Skeeter, an extremely old and ugly blonde, a former reporter, who has humiliated many good wizards, has had the tables turned on her. Hermione Granger has discovered her as an unregistered Animagus and captured her in a jar to rot away like the lowly bug that she is." Hermione said. Harry and Ron snorted.

"You guys are strange," Padma said and walked away breezily. Parvati and Lavender followed.

They only laughed harder. Harry was glad that Hermione wasn't mad at him anymore.

"So who arranged this surprise party?" Harry asked, finally free to just talk. They all sat down on a bench at one of the tables.

"We all did," Ron said. "And we all set up for it too."

Harry gasped mockingly. "Hermione, you actually took time away from your studies?"

She giggled. "Yes. But the O.W.L.s are very near –"

"Hermione?" Ron asked. "Please shut up." She rolled her eyes. "Harry and I have to talk about the _really_ important stuff. Quidditch and girls!"

"All right, all right, I get it." She got up and walked off to talk to Ginny, who to Harry's dismay, was wearing a bright red pin on her shirt, with a picture of him and WELHPS written in gold. 

Hermione laughed, shot a grin back towards Harry, and took a pin from Ginny and fastened it to her blouse. Harry blushed, and she winked.

He turned back to Ron. "So…Quidditch and girls, right?"

He nodded, crossing his arms. "First, I want to talk about one girl in particular." His expression looked a bit sour.

"This isn't about –" Harry started.

"Hermione," he said flatly.

Harry sighed. "Didn't Percy tell you what I said?"

Ron's eyebrows went up. "Percy? What does he have to do with this? What did he say to you?"

"It's all right, Ron, I already knew," Harry replied, confused.

"What did he say?" Ron stomped off, reddening. "I'm going to go have a talk with him –"

Harry went to go after him, but changed his mind. Instead, he went to talk to Hermione.

"So, Quidditch and girls, huh? For important subjects, that conversation was very short," she said with a smirk, adjusting the WELHPS pin. She pressed it once, and then it read, _Honk if you love Harry!_

He snorted. "Hermione, take that _off_."

"Colin and I worked so hard on it!" Ginny said, with mock hurtfulness. "Are you saying you don't like it?" Then she traipsed off.

Hermione giggled. "So why did Ron run off? He's been acting weird, huh?"

"Yeah, what's up with him?" He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Isn't it _obvious_?" a voice asked behind them. Harry and Hermione turned around.

"Gretchen?"

"I can't believe you don't know why Ron is so upset," she said smugly.

"Well, not all of us are as smart as you, Gretch," Hermione said sardonically. "What is it?"

"You two are so blind!" she said. "Can't you see love when it's right in front of you?"

"What?" the friends asked at the same time. "How does love have anything to do with Ron's behavior?"

"They say love is blind, but this is ridiculous," Gretchen said, sighing. "Well, see you!" Then she skipped off.

"Once the shyness wears off, the smugness comes over," Hermione said dryly.

"What was that love thing she was going on about?" Harry asked her.

She sighed and ran her fingers through her bushy hair. "Gretchen fancies herself an expert on all issues romantic."

"So Ron's in love?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? It does explain a lot though…"

"I'm not in love!" Ron said hotly, coming up behind them. "Are you talking about me behind my back? First Percy, now you two…"

"No, we're worried about you!" Hermione said. "Honestly, what's wrong with you?"

"I'm just perfect," he said angrily.

"Look, I know you're just _dying_ for attention, but this _is_ Harry's birthday," she told him, stressing her words.

"So you think I'm _jealous_? Look, I'm sick of this, I'm going to go." He stomped off.

Hermione plopped onto a bench. "The school year hasn't even started and we've all been fighting several times already. This year looks promising."

"You could say that again." He was about to sit down, but Dennis came running over eagerly.

"Harry! It's about time for the cake!" he said, hopping up and down.

Hermione beamed. "Come on!" She took him by the wrist and led him through the crowd to the cake. Everyone was there, smiling and looking at it. Ron was there, looking very sullen.

Harry examined the cake himself. It was really nice, with green icing saying "Happy Birthday, Harry." There was a nice picture of a Gryffindor lion, a broomstick and a Snitch, a dragon, and a lot of interesting other things that summed him up pretty well.

Mrs. Weasley lit the 15 blue candles, and everyone began to sing. It sounded horrible, but it was music to Harry's ears; he had never had a party or cake ever. "Happy birthday to you!" they finished.

He blew out the candles easily. As Mrs. Weasley got the knife to cut it, the flames flared up again. Harry blew them out again – again – and again, the candles kept relighting themselves.

Fred, George, and Lee Jordan cracked up when Harry blew them out for the seventh time. Mrs. Weasley looked stern, but when everyone else burst out laughing, she cracked a small smile, but ordered the twins to fix it. 

Finally, the cake was cut, and everyone was eating.

"So what did you wish for?" Hermione asked Harry curiously.

"Wish?" he asked, bewildered.

"Don't tell me you didn't wish at least _once_ when you got seven chances!" she said in surprise, but he nodded.

"I guess I forgot." He rubbed the back of his neck. "That was the first time I ever got a party and people singing to me, so I just never learned it. Do you think it would work if I wished right now, since I gave up seven tries?"

"I don't know," she confessed. "I never tried, but then again, none of my wishes came true."

"So you never wished to become a super-genius?"

Hermione beamed, with a beautifully perfect smile. "Thank you," she murmured, his cheeks tingeing pink. "But I'm not a genius, I just study hard," she replied modestly.

"Whatever you smart people want to call it." He shrugged.

"So what would you wish for?" she asked, changing the subject quickly.

"I dunno. I don't need money, I don't want any more fame or publicity; I would like a family, but you can't wish dead people back, I guess…" He paused for a while, thinking. "I think I'd wish to be –"

"Don't say it!" she interrupted worriedly

He raised his eyebrows. "Why? You asked."

"Because it won't come true."

"You're so superstitious," he laughed. "You probably know anyway."

"For Cho to fall in love with you?" she asked, smirking.

Harry playfully hit her. She smacked him back, but lightly. Soon, they were fake fighting and rolling on the ground with hysterics, their cakes and wishes totally forgotten.

"Sorry to bother you," they heard someone mumble, annoyed.

Harry looked up, and saw it was Ron. He got to his feet, and lent Hermione a hand. They were still giggling madly. Ron glared at them, but said nothing.

"So what's up?" Harry asked, not even realizing that he had never let go of Hermione's hand when she got back up.

"Yeah?" she piped up. "You didn't bother us; in fact, I think you gave us back our sanity."

"That's nice," he muttered.

"Ron, I think we seriously need to talk," she said. "I really want to know what's going on. I'm so confused, because ever since this summer break, you've been acting…_funny_." At the same time, she subconsciously readjusted her WELHPS pin with her free hand.

He was fuming. "If you can't see it, I'm not going to tell you."

'Fine then," Hermione replied. "Be that way _again_. Look, I have no idea what's going on, and if you refuse to say anything, I'm going to go. Coming, Harry?"

He had no choice, really; Hermione increased her grip on him and tugged on his hand. "Sure, why not? Look, I'm sorry, Ron, but since you won't tell us –" She quickly led him away.

Harry sighed. "Why do we keep fighting and running off? I know this is going to happen a lot more this year. Geez, I wish everything could be like how it used to be."

"Are you sure about that?" a voice asked.

***

**A/N:** Yes, of course, I'm stopping there. Just so you know, practically every chapter will end in a cliffhanger. Hey, J.K. does it that way too! By the way, when I said wiles, I didn't mean pranks, it's a synonym of arguments, just to clear that up. 

Sorry this took so long to post, because I put _The Mysterious Corridor Part 4, _and the entire _Enchanted _Trilogy (that's right, I finished the last part at the same time with the others) before this. Plus, I was stuck for a title, so it took longer. And whenever I write chapters in this story, they turn out differently than planned. Sorry it's taking them so long to get to Hogwarts, and you have no idea about the Tapestry of Fate part either.

**Disclaimer: **Everything is J.K. Rowling's, except for Gretchen, she's _mine_.

**P.S. **For once,I didn't ask yet, did I? Normally I put this in the author's note, but it's long enough. Review, review, review! If you don't, I refuse to continue to the next part.


	5. The Visitor

**Harry Potter**

**And The**

**Tapestry of Fate**

CHAPTER 4

# The Visitor

Harry and Hermione let go of each other's hands and whipped around so quickly that they both nearly tripped.

"Jumpy, aren't you?" the voice said with amusement.

Harry stared at the speaker in awe. He was a teenaged boy, around their age, with sandy blond hair and shining blue-green eyes. He noticed that Hermione blushed at the sight of him. "Who're you?" he asked defensively. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," the boy said calmly, leaning against the fence.

"Answer my first question, who are you?" he repeated a bit more firmly. Ever since last year, he hadn't been quite as trusting. A nice person wasn't always as he seemed; he learned that to a great extent.

"Doesn't really matter," he said coolly, crossing his arms. "I know you, and that's all I really need."

"We can't trust you if you don't give us your name," Hermione said.

"Doesn't look like you will whether I do or not."

The conversation was going nowhere. "How do you know me?" Harry asked.

"I studied."

Of course, never a detailed answer. "What do you want from us?" Harry said.

"Well, I don't really need the girl, but maybe I can use her anyway. You said you wished things could be back to normal? From when are you speaking about?"

Harry paused and thought. What had been the year with the least arguments, trouble, and fighting? Maybe first, definitely not second or third, and not at all fourth. "Maybe towards the end of first year," he replied. "Why?"

"Are you sure that's what you want?" the boy said.

Hermione had gotten very curious, not at all suspicious. Her cheeks were still a bit pink. "Why?"

"Because I can grant it," he said so slowly and melodramatically that Harry had to stifle a laugh.

"What rubbish," he said. "Come on, Hermione, let's go, find out who invited this twit."

But she was staring at the boy in amazement. "Can you really?"

"Hermione, come on –" He tugged on her arm.

"Harry – oh, stop that – let go, what if he's telling the truth?"

"I doubt it." He looked at the boy, who was eyeing him somewhat angrily.

"Just – just hear him out, all right?" she said. "This may be good for some laughs later on."

The boy was mad at the way they were viewing him. "Let him choose," he said. "And then he can kick himself later on for not staying," he said coldly.

"Fine," Harry said exasperatedly. "What were you saying?"

"I can grant your wishes, make your fantasies reality, produce your greatest desires, and change a dream to actuality."

Harry snorted. "You've got a lot of power for a fifteen year old. Or have you been practicing that line so long that you just had to say it? Sounds rather catchy."

"Shut up," Hermione said, nudging him.

"You – girl," the boy said suddenly. "You've been having dreams. You can't explain them, but they're just so real. Like you're right there, listening, but not witnessing, your best friend's death. And it plays over and over in your mind until you can think of nothing else…am I right?"

She nodded wordlessly. "How – how?" she stammered.

"I just know," he said, youthfulness coming to his voice. "I don't know why – it's a power I've had since I was born, though I can't muster why. I wish I didn't have to be –" He seemed aware of his surroundings and stop.

"Thought you could change wishes to reality or whatever," Harry muttered, only half listening.

"You, Potter," he said sharply, making Harry look up from the ladybug he had been watching out of boredom.

"Yeah?"

"You feel like you've forgotten something important…it's happened twice before, and the first time was extremely odd. Yet you can't remember it."

"So?"

The boy sighed impatiently. "Look, you have to listen to me!" He again sounded like the teenager he was, not some great, wise, mystic, all-knowing god or something. "This has been bothering me for ages! I had to seek you out, and now that I found you, why can't you trust me for a few seconds? Now you have been having that odd sensation, right?"

Harry nodded finally. How could he know? And about Hermione's dreams too?

"Good, I was correct. Now adding that and other situations up, I'd say we have a serious problem. For you, it's an extreme advantage that should prove handy so as to stop the Great War. But they're not going to like this…" He ran a hand through his hair.

"Who? What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "Great War?"

"You were right. They weren't just dreams or nightmares, they _were_ visions."

"I told you!" she said to Harry, but the boy looked stern.

"As I was saying, these visions, if you happen to get more, should be the key to his destruction once and for all."

"Voldemort?" Harry asked, finally paying attention.

The boy nodded solemnly. "It seems as though someone has found the Tapestry of Fate, and they are giving you peeks at it through premonitions, only accessible in your dreams. You see death before it happens, and you may be able to prevent it from happening in the future. Use this power wisely. Never forget your dreams – and you, Harry, must work to remember it." 

He looked around, and spotted Ron walking towards them. "I have only a few seconds left. Now you asked, you get it. My name's Whitby. Tucker. No time for formal introductions though, I have to go now, but I'll come back. Until then –" And with a blink, he vanished completely.

"That was – odd," Harry commented.

"Oh, I wish I could go to the library right now!" Hermione said furiously. "The Tapestry of Fate, now why is that so familiar? Whitby, isn't that a second year?" 

Harry shrugged.

Ron finally reached them. "What have you been up to?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. For some reason, he had a feeling that Tucker Whitby and the things he had told them should remain between them. "Why? Do you want to know if we're not busy so you can yell at us even more now?"

"Look, Harry, I'm sorry. I think something possessed me, but I don't know what. I just feel this tingle of – you were right, Hermione, jealousy for some reason." 

A smile crossed her lips. "And you're jealous of…"

His face flushed instantly. "Errr…no one. Heh, uh, yeah. Anyway I don't want the next school year to be like that, with us fighting all the time and all." He had changed the subject pretty quickly. Suddenly, his eyes brightened. "Speaking of next school year –" He took his hands out from behind his back.

In it were three envelopes, addressed in green ink, with the Hogwarts crest. "Just came a few seconds ago. Well, open it!" he said, thrusting the letters into their hands. They seemed a bit thicker than usual.

They read the familiar letter from Professor McGonagall, reminding them to take the Hogwarts Express from Platform 9 ¾ on September first. Also, were some other flyers and notices. There was another letter from McGonagall too, it read:

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I'm sure you are aware that this year, as fifth years, you are nearing the one of the most important exams at Hogwarts. The O.W.L.s, Ordinary Wizarding Levels, will be taken at the end of this year. You will be entering a school year of great preparation and intense studying, and goofing off and breaking rules shall have an even harsher punishment. You are expected to study hard and do your best._

_Sincerely,_

Professor Minerva McGonagall

## Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

"Great," Ron said. "That means all the fun is gone."

"Maybe," Hermione said, pulling out another letter from her envelope and scanning it. "Have either of you gotten this also?"

Harry and Ron glanced at the letter, and searched their own envelope for one. Harry found it, but Ron didn't have one. Harry's eyes skimmed over the letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

### Congratulations! Based on your outstanding performance in the last four years in schoolwork and behavior –

Ron snorted; he was reading Harry's letter too.

You have been selected to be a prefect. Your responsibility has been increased, and we hope you are up to the challenge. It is your duty to stay free from trouble and provide a good example for younger students.

In case of an emergency, you guide everyone to safety or follow instructions given to you. At the start of term, you must help first years around the castle until they are familiar with it. You must also inform the fellow Gryffindors when a password has been changed.

The first password is: Merlin's beard. Don't forget it. I hope you are ready for the tremendous responsibility that comes with this. You should find your badge also enclosed in the envelope.

Not to mention, there are some perks to reward you. Don't forget, prefects get the first two compartments in the Hogwarts Express. You are also permitted to use the prefect's bathroom. Password: Butternut squash. I know you will have a great time being a prefect.

Sincerely.

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

Harry looked and found the gleaming, silver badge. "Step one up to Percy-hood," he said, and Ron sniggered.

Hermione was glowing as she read her letter for the third time and examined her badge. "Congratulations, Harry!" she said, giving him another suffocating hug. "As for you, Ron, well – you got what you wanted! Now what are all these other papers?" She pulled a few out. "Hmmm…another Yule Ball, Valentine's Dance, Quidditch Ball, End of Year Bash. Wow, we have a lot more dances now."

"Oh yay," Harry said sarcastically.

Ron looked even glummer than him, but he seemed deep in thought too. 

Hermione, however, was grinning widely. "I'm so excited too!"

"Hermione, you know Harry was being sarcast—" But she squealed in delight.

"What is it?" Ron and Harry asked.

"Wow – read this –" she said breathlessly. She thrust a paper under Harry and Ron's noses. They read it, trying to ignore Hermione's delighted squeaks.

Dear students and parents,

I'm sure everyone has heard the extreme difficulty of finding teachers for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. People apparently seem to think the job is jinxed, as we have just gone right through great professors like Quirrell, Lockhart, Lupin, and Moody. All of them have had their own different reasons for leaving. The real professor Moody, as you have probably heard the story already, refuses to teach this year, fearing it will happen again.

Through several ads in the Daily Prophet and requests from personal friends, no one is quite up to taking the job. Except one, that is. I know many parents shall have some complaints, but since the exams must go on, and students must learn the ways of the Dark Arts even more due to Voldemort's rise to power in the last few months and the death of a student, it is more vital than ever. You must put aside your grudges, I assure you, and your children are entirely safe.

The new professor is Remus J. Lupin, was the professor for the Dark Arts two years ago. I know you are concerned for your children's safety, but the Wolfsbane Potion is entirely effective. He is easily the best teacher we have had for the position. I have total trust for him, and I hope you will too, and not be biased because of what he is by no real fault of his own. I hope you will treat him with great respect, and I know you will learn a lot!

Sincerely,

Professor Albus Dumbledore

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster

Harry was so excited that he was unable to speak. "I can't believe it!" Ron too, was speechless, and Hermione was jumping up and down.

There was nothing else in the envelope, except for the list of things to buy for the new school year. Had they seen it, they would have been somewhat surprised at the items on it.

"Harry, come on, presents!" Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas shouted. Harry grinned, and he, Hermione, and Ron ran off.

"Wow!" Ron said, sounding much like a young child. But it was something to marvel at, dozens of colorful presents and gifts of all shapes and sizes. "Open them!"

Harry grinned from ear to ear as a crowd gathered around him. He picked up the package nearest to him, which was wrapped in dark blue paper with gold stars that glittered. It turned out to be a magical Polaroid camera from Colin and Dennis, who said it went with Ginny's present.

Ginny's was a scrapbook. She said he could take pictures of everything and put it in there to remember. Why not just a pensieve? He wondered. Anyway, most of his memories were bad ones he ached to forget, but he was grateful for the presents anyway.

This time, Ron got him a book, and it was called Death Omens: What to do When You Know the Worst is Coming. Harry gave him a very blank stare.

Then Ron burst out laughing and said it was just the cover. The real book was underneath. This was the book he had wanted in his first year. Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly Legs, Tongue Tying, and Much, Much More.)

"Too bad we couldn't have Professor Vindictus Viridian too," Seamus Finnigan commented.

Harry got a Quija board from Hermione, who said it scared the wits out of Muggle children, except since they were wizards, they were used to spirits. This Quija board was also authentic, from a magical antique shop. They would try it out later, after they finished with the hundreds of gifts.

This took longer than they had hoped. But finally, Harry had opened all 58 presents and cards, beating all Dudley's records by twenty. The kids scattered off again, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron were left to clean up the endless sea of wrapping paper and boxes.

"So how about that Quija board, huh?" Ron asked excitedly, stuffing the trash into the bin. "Let's try it out!"

"I heard Quija boards are haunted by evil spirits," Harry said enthusiastically. "Is this one?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'd never give you a cursed present! And this Quija board is supposed to only work at night, that's why all the letters glow. We also have to use some special candles, and those we'll have to pick up in Diagon Alley."

Harry looked disappointed. Then he brightened. "Are you staying here, Hermione? You can teach us how to use it!"

"No, I'm not staying here. We still have a whole month left, and I was supposed to go on vacation to—"

"Bulgaria?" Ron guessed, with a sort of grimace.

She rolled her eyes. "Didn't I already tell you I broke up with Viktor?" she asked, irritated. "Anyway, I'm going to Greece, and there I can learn a lot about the Greek myths and gods. Zeus, Pegasus, Medusa, Cerberus, Apollo, Heracles, they're all true, unlike Muggles think."

Harry shrugged. "Well, we can figure out how to work the Quija board on our own. Like you said, we have a whole month, right?"

"Not exactly," Ron said slowly.

"What do you mean?" he asked incredulity.

"Dumbledore said you couldn't stay with us the whole vacation anymore. There have been more sightings of You-Know-Who, and he said it would be safer if you stayed with your relatives. I don't know why, though."

But Harry did. Dumbledore had invoked an ancient magic to give him full protection from Voldemort as long as he was in his relatives' care. He sighed miserably. Maybe this holiday was going to be as bad as before. "So what do we do now?"

Hermione shuffled her feet and glanced at Ron. "If it isn't too much trouble, could Harry and I talk alone for a minute?" she asked.

Ron looked suspicious, but he slowly walked off to Seamus and Dean, who were discussing this year's Quidditch Cup in Luxembourg, where Ireland was playing again, versus Switzerland.

"What's this about?" Harry asked curiously.

"I don't want you to use the Quija board without me, okay? It's more complicated than you think, and I know you may think it can come in useful to find out the things you've forgotten, but you're supposed to do that on your own, like Tucker said. Over the holiday, just try your best to remember what he said and piece together everything he said, all right? No funny business or anything?"

He nodded glumly. "Now you took the fun away from everything."

"You're a prefect now," she reminded him, "and you have to keep a prefect attitude all the time, even when we're not in school."

"So prefect-hood ruins all the fun."

Hermione looked shocked. "Of course not!"

"Then something is taking the fun away from everything," he said exasperatedly.

"Or someone. Think about it. The only reason why Tucker Whitby came, why you have to stay with the Dursleys, why you can't use the Quija board, there's all one reason. Yes, it's dangerous, but it's all because of Voldemort." She shuddered. "Did I just say that?"

"Who's Tucker Whitby?"

Harry and Hermione whipped around. "Ron!"

"Who's Tucker Whitby?" he repeated in frustration.

"Oh, ummm…nothing," Hermione said, turning red. "Errr…I'm starving! Who's up for cake!" Then she ran away.

Ron narrowed his eyes at Harry for a moment, but then Harry ran after Hermione too. "Errr…I am!"

He trudged after them angrily, knowing they were hiding something from him, and someone named Tucker Whitby had something to do with it. As he slowly chewed his cake, standing a few feet away from Harry and Hermione, he decided he would do everything he could to find out about Tucker Whitby and everything else they were hiding from him.

***

**A/N:** Well, without knowing it, Ron is doing Harry and Hermione a big favor now. Anyway, he won't be so jealous crazed for long. Anyway, sorry I took so long to post this! I only had this chapter half finished, and I got a humongous case of writer's block on this story. It's been a few months I think, but I just may finish this story. A lot of people have been asking me to keep going, so I think I will. Thanks!

**Disclaimer: **Everything from the fic belongs to J.K. Rowling except for Tucker Whitby and everything else you don't recognize from the books.

**The Mysterious Corridor:** For anyone who thinks I'm going to finish The Mysterious Corridor since I came back to this, forget it. That fic is dead. I'm going to take it down now, because I'm just not in the mood to finish it. If I get inspiration, you might see it a few years from now, but I give up. **Here's how the story was going to go:** Sirius, Remus, and Peter were sent in the future to their future selves, and Lily and James leaped into Harry and Hermione's bodies. Harry and Hermione, in their fifth year, who are secretly in love with each other (but neither knows) are awake around midnight when an urge to take a walk comes over them. They find the corridor, leap into the past Lily and James' bodies. Ron finds out their situation, helps MPP and Lily in the future. After everyone has learned their lesson and their futures, they're sent back to their original times. The whole story was for Harry and Hermione to learn that they should admit when they're in love so it won't be too late if Voldemort murders them before they get a chance to know, blah, blah, blah.


End file.
